"er indoors TM" took a sick day
yesterday; when I woke I toyed with the idea of doing the same today. This cold
has dragged on and on. But I forced myself out of my pit. Over deluxe berry
granola and full fat milk I watched “F is
for Family” and then sparked up my lap-top. It had some urgent
notifications about the software I never use. It does that.
There wasn’t a lot kicking off on
Facebook really, but I did snigger when my cousin had told the world that when
she went to drink her morning coffee she just had a cup of hot water as she’d
forgotten to add coffee… then I remembered my coffee was still in the kitchen
where I’d left it half an hour before.
I had a look
at my emails. I liked the look of what the nice people at Ordnance Survey were selling,
but when I clicked on the link my lap-top laid an egg. The anti-virus software
said that Ordnance Survey’s web site was “very risky”. Who would have
thought it of them?
I left for
work just after seven o'clock on a wet and dismal morning. As I drove the
pundits on the radio were talking about the government's historic defeat in
Parliament yesterday. They interviewed an ex-chief whip who had voted against
the Government yesterday and seemed to have taken great joy in sticking in the
knife. From what I could work out from what he was saying, yesterday's (apparently)
surprising upset for the Government has important implications. When (not if)
the Prime Minister's plan for Brexit finally goes tits-up, Parliament can now
bring in their own scheme.
Several
politicians of various flavours were then wheeled on. It was quite clear that
no one wants the Prime Minister's plan. Everyone is really pleased that
Parliamentarians will now be able to implement their own plans for Brexit. The
fact that no two Parliamentarians (out of over six hundred of them)
agree on anything Brexit-related would seem to be irrelevant.
I made
reasonable time until I got to Lamberhurst. Usually the traffic grinds to a
halt a mile or so up the A21. I knew the road were going to be busy this
morning when I ground to a halt some two miles earlier than usual. After half
an hour (literally - from eight o'clock to half past eight) of not
moving, it was announced on the radio that the A21 had been closed. That
explained why the traffic wasn't moving and why nothing had come down the road
toward me for half an hour.
You would
have thought that whoever it is that closes roads would have put up a sign,
wouldn't you?
Realising
that I needed to get a shift on before the thousands (literally) of
other drivers heard the news I managed to turn my car around and take the
scenic route to work through the country lanes. Surprisingly not a single
person followed me on my route or was already taking it. I drove straight from
the monumental traffic jam to work without delay and was only quarter of an hour
late.
Work was much
the same as ever. I sniffled through the day. My nasal polyps have become *really*
troublesome again. I spent quite a bit of time fighting with various medical
receptionists trying to arrange to get them sorted. I've been told to make a
phone call on Friday. I shall do that, and if that doesn't work I shall make a
formal complaint. It has been my unfortunate experience that if I make a
complaint, then things happen. If I don't make a complaint, then things just
drag on.
I'd rather
not complain...
I came home;
the weather was awful. I spent most of the drive home with various idiots far
too close up behind me with headlights on full-beam. Whenever possible I let
these people pass; what kind of half-wit wants to drive along unlit country lanes
in the rain at over seventy miles an hour?
"er indoors TM" boiled up a very
good dose of scran, and we scoffed it whilst watching this week’s episode of “Doctor Who”. This season is getting
better as it goes along…
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